From past experience, Alex knew that the birds were most dangerous when dive-bombing from above. Once they were on the ground, they were still potentially lethal, but they were awkward.
Alex and Monda-ak had tossed half the birds away when the two young warriors were able to grab hold of the slashing beaks attacking them and do the same.
Alex fell into a back-to-back-to-back formation with the injured warriors. He looked up and saw that the karak-ta in the sky and those on the ground chose the same moment to press the attack.
All we can do is all we can do.
At that moment, Senta-eh’s warning—Manta-ak, they are circling behind you!—rang out.
Arrows sizzled through the air, finding a home in the wings and bodies of the karak-ta diving at Alex’s back. Out of the corner of his eye, Alex saw Senta-eh and her four bowmen firing again and again.
Monda-ak timed a leap to meet one of the birds just before it crashed into Alex. They tumbled to the ground, the bird scratching with its talons, which were no match for Monda-ak’s teeth and the sheer force of his weight.
The arrows were not enough to kill the karak-ta—their hides were too thick to allow a killing blow. But each arrow that struck home knocked one of the winged beasts off its intended target and sent it plummeting to the beach in a heap.
Alex was never one to wait for the battle to be brought to him, so he charged forward, swinging his axe at the mid-section of the first bird, then whirling and slashing with the cudgel at a second. Both blows struck home.
He lifted the first bird, who was quivering and shaking at the end of his axe. He whirled it over his head with a primordial battle cry and flung it dead to the ground. The second karak-ta was stunned but tried to find its balance. Alex kicked it in its oversized head and delivered a second, killing blow with the cudgel.
Seeing Alex kill two of the birds at once brought renewed vigor to the injured warriors and they stepped toward the birds that were stalking them, swinging their heavy clubs in a deadly arc.
Senta-eh saw that their arrows were of limited effectiveness and shouted, “Swords and clubs! Attack them, but watch the sky for more,” then ran forward, lifting her stabbing sword over her head and sprinting toward the melee. She announced her arrival with a clean beheading of one of the karak-ta that was preparing to leap on Alex’s back.
All seven of the Winten-ah warriors had been part of Alex’s Army when they had invaded Denta-ah years earlier. They had trained together, learned to trust each other, and act as one.
The karak-ta had miniscule brains, but savage killing instincts. They slashed with their sharp beaks and did their best to hop up onto the shoulders of the invading humans, mostly to no effect.
The humans did not escape uninjured, but they did escape.
The beach resembled a karak-ta graveyard, with severed heads, wings, and torsos scattered everywhere.
When the last squawking beast had been put down, Alex, Senta-eh, and the others kneeled and caught their breath.
“This is not a place to rest,” Senta-eh said almost instantly. “We need to move on.”
Alex agreed and pushed to his feet. He took in the injuries of the warriors and helped the most-injured man to his feet. “Put your arm around my shoulder.” He glanced around and saw that everyone who was too hurt to walk unaided had a guide to help them.
He called Monda-ak to him and looked for wounds, but there were only superficial scratches.
They limped off the beach and away from the karak-ta.
At the beach where Alex had first stepped through the door, they found the other young men who had fled the karak-ta. Their heads hung low and Alex could see their shame at having run from the battle. He handed off the injured man he had been helping to one of them—Alex was really too short to serve as a crutch for the native Winten-ah.
“Do not look ashamed. You did not do anything wrong. You kept to the plan, which was the right thing to do. I am the one who lost my head and charged into battle without thinking. If anyone should be ashamed, it is me.”
The four warriors looked shocked at that idea. One spoke up. “You are Manta-ak and you saved their lives.”
“We saved their lives,” Alex said, including Senta-eh and her bowmen. “And by acting without thinking, I endangered their lives too. It turned out well, but it was foolish.”
Basically, do as I say, not as I do.
The three boys who had been assigned to gather the karak-ta eggs after the disruptors had attracted the birds’ attention came running up a different path, laughing and celebrating. They quickly fell silent when they saw the injured men.
“Do you have the eggs?” Alex asked.
“Det,” they answered as one, holding up the sacks full of large eggs as proof.
“We killed too many,” Alex said. “We’ll need to delay the next trip to give them time to replenish the population. That’s a decision for Sekun-ak and the council, though.”
Alex took a mental inventory of their condition. Senta-eh, her bowmen, and the three egg runners were all uninjured. The four distractors who Alex had passed on his rescue mission had minor injuries, but nothing that would slow them too much.
The two men who had fallen off the rocks in an attempt to get away were the worst off. They would need help to make it back to the cliffside.
Alex hadn’t felt any injury while he fought, but now Senta-eh stepped forward, knelt, and examined a long gash that started at his collarbone and extended almost to his waist.
“Bring me the bag,” she said over her shoulder, and one of her bowmen stepped forward with the medical supplies, such as they were. She
